


Fallout Dads

by super_rainbow2021



Series: NaNoWriMo 2019 [17]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attack, falling into video games, stressed college student, the tattoo on her forearm is a list of her cats, which is a tattoo i want to get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 17:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20139148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_rainbow2021/pseuds/super_rainbow2021
Summary: It couldn't be, but she swore they looked exactly like one of the Diamond City Security from that game her dad got her. Yeah, the guy had on umpire gear and held a baseball bat. Connie was borderline hyperventilating at this point as she backed up further into the alley she was standing in.





	Fallout Dads

"Yes, Mom, I made sure to pack my homework. It's not like I could get a break from it," the girl laughed. She was packing for a weekend trip back home from college. She was running through the mental checklist her mother gave her; laptop, keys, homework, clothes, and other such things Connie wanted to take home. She held the phone to her ear as she glanced around the room once more to make sure she got everything she needed. Her mom nagged further, and she turned to her bag again. "I promise I will talk to Danny, don't worry. He's just been busy with art school." She listened to her mother talk some more while she sifted through her bag and tucked a lock of her honey-blonde hair behind her ear.

_"Well, if you're going to invite him to your birthday party, I need to make sure you're on speaking terms with him. I know how you are with people. I'm just looking out for you."_ That made Connie smile. _"Oh, and your father is going to be taking your brother to the movies around 4, so we'll have a few hours to-"_

Connie frowned and waited a few seconds. "Mom?" she asked. The phone seemed to cut off weirdly. She looked at it and noticed she wasn't standing in her dorm room anymore. She stood in a dingy marketplace, full of people she'd never met before but looked oddly familiar. "Mom?" she whispered to herself as she turned back to the phone in her hand, but it had turned off. Connie started panicking; the only thing she had with her in this strange place was her open bag and her phone, which didn't seem to be working. She threw her phone in her bag and zipped it, then turned to look around the market. Someone bumped into her but they didn't say anything besides a grunt, and Connie felt her breath hitch as she looked at them.

It couldn't be, but she swore they looked _ exactly _ like one of the Diamond City Security from that game her dad got her. Yeah, the guy had on umpire gear and held a baseball bat. Connie was borderline hyperventilating at this point as she backed up further into the alley she was standing in. "This isn't … it can't be … a _ video game _?!" She felt tears prick her blue eyes as she bumped into someone else, and she whipped around to apologize before realizing who it was. A half-there metallic face with glowing yellow eyes- Nick Valentine, the Diamond City synth and local detective. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," Connie managed between her dry sobs and gasping.

Nick looked as concerned as a synth could look, and reached out to the girl with his mostly normal hand. "Hey, are you okay?" He took in her appearance, and noted she looked vividly out of place in the dingy, radiation-impacted city, with her yellow T-shirt and … _ blue jeans _. "Where are you from?" he asked.

Connie was openly crying at this point, and was clutching her bag to her chest. "Not here," she sobbed.

Nick had no idea what he was getting himself into, but he felt he needed to help this poor girl. "Would you come down to the agency with me? Maybe we can figure out how you got here." The girl sobbed again and rubbed at her face with her wrist. "And maybe find your parents," he mumbled to himself. Connie let herself be steered by the synth into a slightly cleaner corner of the city and into what looked like a trailer.

"Ellie, could you whip up a hot drink and get a blanket for our friend here?" Nick asked before closing the door. His assistant need not ask as she was familiar with lost kids. He sat Connie on the torn couch up against the furthest wall before taking the blanket from Ellie. Connie was still breathing too fast, risking choking, so Nick sat next to her to try and calm her. "I need you to breathe, kid, until you can tell me your name." He helped with hand motions and breathed with the girl, then took the cup Ellie brought over. "Coffee?" he offered.

Connie calmed enough to swallow the cotton in her mouth and accepted the cup with one hand, not willing to let go of her bag lest it disappear too. She sniffed until she was sure her nose wouldn't run down her face and took a sip of the coffee. Black, which didn't surprise her, but it was the only way she took her coffee and it made her smile. She sniffed again and made to wipe her eyes, but realized she couldn't holding both her bag and the coffee. Thinking of letting go of the bag made her breath quicken again until Nick laid a hand on her arm. She looked up at him, and the fact that it was _ him _, so familiar to her from her hours of gameplay, made him almost feel like a friend. Connie cleared her throat. "S-Sorry," she rasped, and took another sip of coffee.

Nick shook his head slowly. "It's quite normal. I'm Nick Valentine, and I'm a detective," he said, kind of shocked this kid hasn't said anything about him being a synth. Maybe her parents didn't raise her with a hatred for the Institute and synths in general. "Can you tell me your name?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. "C-Constantina MacNellus, b-but everyone calls me Connie," she said, trembling slightly as she remembered she was alone in this Fallout world.

"That's a pretty name," Ellie said as she returned, attempting to calm the girl down. Connie smiled wryly as Ellie set the ratty blanket beside her.

"It was m-my grandmother's." She sniffed again and felt the tears soak the collar of her shirt as she tried to use her shoulders to wipe her face. Nick watched her for a minute, noting the white-knuckled grip she held on her bag. It was like it was the last thing she had.

"Connie," Nick started carefully, watching the girl pause in taking another sip, "how old are you?"

She took the sip and answered, "N-Nineteen." She wasn't crying anymore, but sniffled every minute or so and rubbed her face on her shoulders to accompany them. "M-My birthday's actually coming up."

_ She's older than I thought _, Nick mused to himself. Ellie wasn't honed in on their conversation anymore, but she wasn't fully focused on paperwork either. "Where are you from?" he asked.

Connie's breathing picked up again and her brows knitted. "Not here," she repeated, fat tears escaping her eyes. She blinked rapidly, like she was trying not to cry anymore or push down a panic attack. "Not here, not here," she started to whisper to herself, grip somehow tightening on her bag handle.

"It's okay, it's okay," Nick assured, patting her tense arm again. He turned to his assistant. "Ellie, could you give us a moment please?" The woman nodded and took a stack of papers with her to the upstairs desk. He turned back to Connie. "I know you're not from here. It's okay, you can talk to me. We can figure this out."

Connie's breath hitched as she focused on the synth again. "H-How do I get back?"

Nick took a breath. "We'll figure it out. Maybe someone knows your parents." He was smiling a little, to keep a calm face for effect, but Connie was not having it.

"No one will! This is the worst place, why here?!" She somehow set the half-empty cup of coffee on the filing cabinet. She then held a fist to her head and curled in on herself. "I'm not from here, not here!"

"Connie!" Nick grabbed her shoulders, and the strange sharp hand scared her and heightened her hysterics. He sighed and only held onto her with his mostly human-looking hand, and watched the girl beside him break down. "Connie, listen to me." She looked up, sniffling and swiping at new tears with her fingertips. Nick sighed again. "I want to take you to a friend of mine. He might be able to help us." Though still mid-panic attack, Connie seemed coherent enough to nod and sling the bag over her shoulders as she stood, still mumbling nonsense. That's when Nick noticed the string of - what looked like - names tattooed under her right forearm. He filed it away for later. For now, he had to get her to Goodneighbor, and maybe Hancock would know what chems she was on.

. . © . .

The moment they stepped out of Diamond City, Connie felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Nostalgia? Familiarity? Whatever it was, it helped to calm her down. She knew this world of Fallout; she'd poured enough of her time into the game for it to have a lasting impact. Nick Valentine was her favorite follower by far- maybe tied with Hancock. Whom, she knew, was the person Nick wanted to take her to. Goodneighbor was close to the city, and Connie had taken the trek several times on quests and personal visits.

"Now, I'm gonna need'ya to try and keep a level head, alright? It'll all be easier if you're calm."

Connie knew Nick was just trying to help, but his - would it be bedside manner in this context? - word choices didn't make her feel any better. She wasn't crying or hyperventilating now, but that was mostly because she was outside and experiencing the realm of Fallout 4. Her right hand still held an iron grip on her backpack, the only thing she had left of her own world, but she felt far calmer than she had when she first appeared.

  
Which brought her back to her main problem. How had she been transported from her world into a video game? She was _ packing, _ for a weekend back home with her mother (and family) and friends, for her _ birthday. _ No game systems anywhere near her at the time, since she was in her dorm room and her roommate had already driven back to their home. Well, no systems besides her handhelds, which weren't working either. Figures.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to extend this and write Connie meeting Hancock and the three of them figuring out a way [or not] to get her back home, and of course if they can't then she has to settle in with them, which will be very hard.


End file.
